12
T he night passed far too soon. I slept late as a result of the creaking doors and murmuring that came from the crown prince’s chamber, though I was too tired to wonder who he was speaking to.
In the morning, a maid who introduced herself as Serena assisted in washing and dressing me.
“Lord and Lady Huntington and Miss Isabelle are downstairs breaking fast,” Serena said, buttoning up my gown. “I’ll show you down shortly, milady.”
After I finished dressing, Serena led me out to the hall. She looked down at Misty when we reached the set of stairs. “Forgive milday, but M-Miss Isabelle doesn’t like animals,” she stuttered.
What am I supposed to do then, starve? Misty said grouchily.
“She’s very well-behaved,” I said.
“Oh...of course, milady. The dining room is right down these stairs to the left. If you’ll excuse me, I have much to attend to. Good day, milady!”
She bobbed a quick curtsy and practically dashed off, brown skirts flying.
I frowned, reminded very much of Tizzy. Was I that frightening to serve that every lady’s maid dissolved into a puddle of stutters and “milady”s?
Who cares? Misty meowed, cutting through my thoughts. Let’s get something to eat.
We barely made it down two steps.
“Lady Narcissa.”
I turned. Crown Prince Bennett strode toward me, dressed in a soft blue waistcoat and a dusky purple coat, both tailored impeccably to his form. But it was evident he was ill-rested, the darkness under his eyes betraying him. What had he been doing last night?
“Good morning, Your Highness. Are you off to breakfast?” I inquired. I wasn’t sure how to act. Civility, therefore, was best.
He nodded. “And you?”
“To breakfast.”
He studied the railing, then his shoes, before looking back at me. If I didn’t know better, I would think him shy. Odd, after his usual stoic behavior. I shook the thoughts away. Perhaps I was imagining things.
To my surprise, Crown Prince Bennett offered me his arm. “Shall we go together?”
It seemed like he was in a friendlier mood today. I accepted his arm gingerly and we made it to the dining room in silence. His gait was stiffer than usual. No doubt he was suffering from a sore backside from riding yesterday, as Misty had predicted .
Served him right.
“Your Highness, Lady Narcissa,” Lord Frederick greeted us from the table. Two women beside him stood and curtsied—one older and the other younger. They introduced themselves as Lady Huntington and Miss Isabelle Huntington, respectively.
“It is an honor to share our home with you, Your Highness,” Lady Huntington said as Crown Prince Bennett took his seat at the head of the table. I sat in the empty spot to his right, across from Lord Frederick and next to his daughter.
“Papa always keeps the grounds so lovely,” Miss Isabelle said, leaning forward. I caught a whiff of strong lilac perfume. “Perhaps Mama and I can give you a tour, Your Highness.” She gave him a deeply dimpled smile.
“His Highness is busy, Isabelle,” Lord Frederick said, buttering a piece of toast. “You’re going into town today, isn’t that right, Your Highness?”
The crown prince nodded.
“There now, Izzy. Perhaps you can show him and Lady Narcissa around another time.”
Isabelle pouted. I swore I saw her shoot me a glare from my periphery.
What is there to eat ? Misty emerged beneath my chair, looking up expectantly.
I scanned the spread on the table. Fresh bread and butter, tea, several bowls of fruit, and pitchers of cream.
No fish , I thought to her. How do you feel about cantaloupe? Misty always liked the fruit. She claimed its texture was similar to raw flesh.
Cantaloupe? In winter?
I blinked. That is unusual. Do you want some or not?
I suppose it will do .
I took a piece of fruit and put it on a separate dish for her. Misty jumped up eagerly.
“Eek! What is that thing ?” Isabelle screeched, jerking up from her chair.
Misty hissed, pupils dilating. I quickly stroked the back of her head to soothe her.
“A cat, Miss Huntington,” I said with a grimace. Her scream practically tore through my ear.
Lord Frederick looked simultaneously appalled and embarrassed. “Really, Isabelle!”
“Frederick, I thought I told you Izzy is allergic to animals,” Lady Huntington said. “How could you allow one in here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She has nothing of the sort.”
Lady Huntington ignored her husband and turned to me. “Excuse my daughter’s manners, Lady Narcissa, but Isabelle has...delicate health. I’m afraid your pet cannot dine with us. Serena!”
The maid rushed in, face flushed. “Yes, Lady Huntington?”
Lady Huntington narrowed her eyes. “I thought I informed you about Isabelle’s allergy.”
“Y-yes milady.”
“Then take Lady Narcissa’s cat to the stables at once,” the lady said, “unless you wish for your young miss to fall ill.”
I stood from my seat. “Misty cannot stay in the stables. She is a house cat.”
Lady Huntington looked at me through heavy lashes. She forked a cube of cantaloupe. “Will she not be able to hold her own? Is she not magic?”
“My cat is not a witch, Lady Huntington,” I said slowly. “I am. ”
Her lip curled ever so slightly. “Forgive me. I’m rather ignorant to witch matters,” she said. “Nevertheless, your cat cannot dine with us. Serena, take it to Lady Narcissa’s chambers.”
Serena curtsied, and without looking at me, took Misty from my chair.
I reached for her. “But she’s hungry!”
Serena evaded me under Lady Huntington’s glare.
“Not to worry. It will be fed oats along with the other animals,” the lady said.
I clenched my jaw in frustration, surprised to find moisture in my eyes. She wouldn’t have dared speak to me in such a manner half a year ago. But now, without Mother...
I dug my nails into my palm. No. I didn’t need Mother’s prestige to protect me anymore.
“Surely some exception can be made—” Lord Frederick began.
I shook my head. “Apologies,” I said with as much grace as I could muster. I was all too aware of Crown Prince Bennett’s silent presence, a reminder that I was expected to behave a certain way. I had disappointed him, no doubt. Misty’s meows disappeared into the other room. “I didn’t mean to disrupt.”
Isabelle returned to her seat with a huff. In the next minute, she was back to jabbering and I had composed myself enough to join the small talk. I ate the cantaloupe I had prepared for Misty. It was sweet and juicy, as if the fruit were really in season.
But even surrounded by chatter and a pleasant breakfast, I felt Misty’s absence more than anything. I would have to apologize to her later.